


Cardinal Sin

by RebelDrFerguson



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Armand is mess when horny, Flip Flop - Top/Bottom, Jean gets rough, M/M, Masterbation, Rough Sex, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 02:17:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8514793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelDrFerguson/pseuds/RebelDrFerguson
Summary: Just this once. Just one more time then he can stop. He has too. He can't keep doing this. Why does his body betray his reason. The man wasn't worth it. Or is he?





	1. God is Always Watching

**Author's Note:**

> Quick mini smutty ficlet. More sex to come, a lot of whimpering Armand and dirty talking Treville!

Just this once. Just one more time then he can stop, Treville thought as he fumbled with his breeches. 

The urgency in which he'd torn his armor and leathers from his torso making him tremble and pant. The sinful images that had been flashing through his mind throughout that meeting began to burn up, made him ache physically and his need began to show in his trouser's.

He was mad of course. His anger and frustration at The Cardinal's hand in the ship's, the tobacco farms, the slavery...it bore into his pride. Why in the damnation did that man think it wise to support such a thing?? Who cares about The King wanting a Navy, innocent people didn't deserve to be treated like that! 

He growled at himself as he finally pulled open the leather's and kicked them off aside his linens. He shamelessly gave in to a moan of wanton desire as he palmed his erection. 

Damn Richelieu, damn him and his smirk, his dark stormy eyes, the way his beard curled just so perfectly under his chin that made you want to stroke it, the way he spoke, that deep purring rumble of his voice when he stood behind you sent more than chills down Treville's spine it sent all the blood rushing to his groin.

He thought he was over this. He HAD been. He could have sworn he'd passed over this phase of lusting. Ever since Savoy they had been estranged. Nothing but a memory of an awkward moment, a wild argument about mortality that had spiraled into them pinning each other to the nearest surface and going from shouting to kissing. All that frustration and toiling old friendship had suddenly bubbled up and emerged as a passion. Something so heated and burning that Treville would have rather eaten lava!   
Something so disastrous and sinful, Treville knew no priest could forgive him. 

He climbed upon his simple garrison bed in a daze, his hand lazy groping his hardened member. He should stop this, ice himself with cold water and get dressed again. Not give in, not lay here with his hand in his underclothes stroking his cock thinking about all the way he could kiss Armand, all the ways he could make him moan beneath him.   
All the ways Treville would love to be laid on that man's desk, helpless and begging to be fucked as Armand thrust into him. All the ways both of them could be punished for their mistakes.

But he gave in.

He lay there eye's fluttering shut as fantasies filled his mind. No one would see this. The Garrison was empty right now, all of them on duty elsewhere and his loyal four currently god knows where dealing with Bonnaire.

Right now he couldn't care. He wanted to come and he wanted to come hard, hard enough that he'd never feel the need to do so again.  
He picked up the pace and tightened his grip, biting his lip as he began to picture Armand naked.

The slow reveal of his torso, as that black leather dress armor was stripped away. The firm planes of his pale chest and those soft looking silver hairs that ran down his stomach into those loose fitting velvet breeches. 

Treville could only guess what they held. For all the kissing and rutting they gave, the biting and the groping, they had yet to see each other at that point.   
Armand had seen him shirtless many times now mostly due to injury and bursting in the garrison late at night to argue, where as he'd only seen Armand shirtless a handful of times, more or less when the man had suffered from fevers and he'd been present aside maids and Doctor's that would be applying cold presses to his flushed skin. 

He smirked to himself as his arousal grew. What would Armand think of him right now, laid here, supine on his bed, naked and stroking his cock?   
He grunted at the flood of heat that rushed through him as he imaged Richelieu stroking him, laying between his thighs, his mouth wrapped around his cock and swallowing his seed as he came loud into the Cardinal's lying mouth.

He'd been so lost in himself thinking and knowing that he was completely alone, in such a haste for relief, forgotten he'd not locked his door nor shut it fully.  
If he opened his eyes and turned his head, he would see someone there in the slight jar of the door. 

That someone stood in the narrow hall just outside his room, his own hand clutching at his groin at the sight. Licking his lips as he watched beads of sweat trail down the Captain's neck, watched as his back arched and his hand moved faster, listened to his name being called out in passion, seeing that man smother his own chest in his seed, the way his cock pulsated as he came. That someone standing there wanting him as much as the man on the bed moaned for them. 

With a shuddering sigh, Richelieu turned on heel, as Jean sat up to reach for a cloth. Fled quietly back out into the yard as he had arrived, it would do him no good to be seen in this state.

 

Later, he thinks. Words would fail him now and he could find his heart open to injury rather than passionate embrace. 

Later.


	2. Love to Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once could they not just talk...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wee bit of angst building up...you'll find out who else like's to watch these two in the next chapter.

Jean lay on his bed drowsy from his orgasm, yet curious whether the creak he'd heard was that of his bed or that of the office door. He'd heard no horses, no carriages, no voices.   
Clearly not Musketeers. 

It took him several minutes to work the tingling out of his legs and bring them back to life as the blood resumed its normal flow. 

He winced at the tension that still hung in his shoulders. The way something gnawed at him in his spine and his body felt unfinished. He'd come hard enough, traces of it still lingered on the sheets, on his pillow. Hell, even on the wall! 

But it wasn't enough. He ached deeper than his groin. 

He felt like an idiot, some stupid teenage boy who couldn't take control of himself. Images of Richelieu still played in his head. 

The comforting thoughts of laying in his arms, being held in comfort and warmth after making love, listening to his callous voice tell him that he loved him and always had. That there fights and spats were little more than a lover's quarrel and they'd survive every storm.

(Where was his shirt?)

Like that of Savoy. 

Armand had done everything once the news broke to shred the evidence of both their involvement, protect them both and never spoke of the incident again. He'd been loyal in his word and in his actions. He always had been. But Jean just couldn't stomach some of the grittier and manhandling way's Richelieu had when it came to France. 

(Why did he have so many buttons?)

Screw doing everything in the name of the King, Louie could afford to be brought down a peg if enough people were to suffer. Treville held his head in his hands and sighed raggedly. 

So what? Even he wasn't brave enough to voice that. He'd never speak out. He guessed truthfully, Richelieu was the lesser of two evils. If Louie's word was law as it came, France would be worse off, he guessed he had to be thankful Armand would talk the course out, bend the stream of will and focus the power's elsewhere. Alas, he wasn't God, he couldn't prevent everything. Something, someone or somehow, death, pain, blackmail, and kidnap would follow. 

(Left boot? Where'd that been thrown...)

Anger bubbled up in his chest again but he forced it back down. He needed to air this. He needed to talk this out at Armand, he wanted to hope that Richelieu hadn't lost his mind. He wanted to know that the Black Cardinal could love, could be a good man at heart.

Looking down at himself he realized somewhere in the forefront of his mind, he has dressed again. 

The voices of Armais and Porthos caught his attention and he slowly stepped out of his rooms, he felt like he was floating a little. He drifted out onto the balcony and looked down upon the tables to see the pair grumbling over that pirate ass of a trader. 

It was so late on now, he felt stuck. There was work to do. Plenty of paper's that needed his attention....but the slight throb of his cock sunk the idea before it began to float.   
He felt like his whole being was suddenly being pulled and before he knew it he was walking out into the darkening stables and then riding out towards the Palais du Cardinal. He had to see him. 

 

Armand had busied himself with his work load for over an hour now. He was amazed he'd managed to do anything at all the way his breeches had suddenly become offensive, the ache between his thighs growled like a lion, wanting. 

More than once he'd chastened his self control as a hand drifted to caress the length of him that he was trying to keep down one pant leg. He huffed and gritted his teeth fighting the want to pay attention to it, crossing his legs and then biting back a moan at the slight friction.

He could make for bed. His quarters had surely been turned down by now and his servants had likely retired too. He could stop this.   
Be alone and lay in his bed thinking about Jean in the garrison and the way he'd moaned Richelieu's name as he came. 

But just as he went to add the last of the letters into the pile, a set of knocks rapped on the door.

A heavy and demanding set of knocks that either meant it was one of his guards or of an urgent matter.

He went to rise from his desk but the throbbing between his legs stopped him and he was left bent double over the desk, as the door swung open. 

His surprise at seeing Jean this late at night had him frozen in place, before he masked it with concern.

"Captain....what can I do for you at this time? they haven't been duelling have they?" he asked wondering whether the Red guards had gotten mouthy yet again and caused a drunken street fight with his majesty's Musketeers.  
Captain Treville came forward slowly as if nervous before stopping directly in front of the desk. 

"No"

He hadn't expected the question and it threw his other answer out of the window. He was expecting a rant or a goading but Richelieu seemed tense. Upset even. Glaring up at him with slightly annoyed eyes and bent over his desk, his jaw stiff as if he was in pain.

Maybe this was a bad idea.  
He'd be stressed out from work, he wouldn't be in the right mood to talk like this.  
"I-I can leave this till the morning if you wish..." he deadpanned stepping backward, partly hopefully Armand would just wave him away, but the elder just sat back down with a wince and beckoned him closer again.

"No, clearly it's of some importance if you're out alone this late, what is it?"

Treville swallowed hard before he found some courage to talk.

"Are you alone?" he muttered playing with the rim of his hat.

Richelieu looked about the room as if he was stating the obvious. There was clearly none else in the room. 

Treville snorted and tilted his head to the door he'd come through. 

"I mean Guards..."

Armand pursed his lips, the two usual guards of his office would be swapping round about now.   
He swallowed himself and suggested they move into his private rooms instead of making a deal of sending the pair away.   
Making sure to move quickly and in the lead, Richelieu leads Treville into the next room, shutting the door behind them before convincing the Captain to follow him into his bedchambers. 

'Subtle, Armand, Subtle' he crossed himself as the Captain shuffled in the doorway. 

They both stopped. 

Armand was out of any coherent thought with all the blood practically in his groin and Treville looked like he was about to burst a lung wanting to desperately speak his mind.   
For lack of something better Armand began to remove his leathers. Moving to his dresser trying to seem as if it was normal to have Jean in his rooms as he undressed.  
The Captain stuttered and was left to helplessly stare.

Armand caught his heated gaze in the mirror but he didn't stop. He pulled it off, piece by piece till his was standing in nothing but his velvet breeches with his cross around his neck. His cock making an obvious tent in the loose material, he daren't' turn around. His nervous body posture giving him away.

"What is that you wanted Captain?" he asked trying to seem unfazed at the heated gaze at his back.

Jean heard the uncertainty in his tone, the wavering, and shyness. He had to decide now.  
The Captain had moved forward by this point his hat dropped aside and his hands itching to press against the slim waist of the man before him. Either speak with your heart or with your mind. 

"Why did you agree to fund Bonnaire's Tobacco farm slavery?" he asked with slight malice.  
He hadn't meant to bring this up. But his volcanic anger still teased beneath the rushing waves of lust and unfortunately his fears allowed the question to leave his lips before he could think twice.

He saw the sigh Richelieu gave more than heard it. 

"The King needs a new navy...the money-"

"You're putting men, women and children on a ship like pigs and using them for -"

"don't you think I know that?!"

Jean fell quiet for a moment reining in his temper.

"Why do you think I ENJOY that idea, why in the name of Mary do you think I LIKE THIS plan, do you have a solution to our money problems Captain because I'm open to it!" Richelieu snarled forgetting his arousal for a moment and spinning to glare at the younger.

Thankfully his large bed was blocking most of Jean view of his lower half. Armand prayed in his mind he didn't come closer for else he would then see the tent in his breeches.

"I-I never suggested you were happy with it, but you're going ahead with it...why?"

"Because it is a faster solution, inside 3 years we should have gained enough money for ten ships...Louie will have become bored with a navy by that point, we can then stop sending people maybe even throw the whole idea out..."

Jean was still disgusted with him. It was still a horrible idea. 

They fell silent for several awkward minutes before Jean turned for the door to leave without word.

"Surely that isn't why you came here?" Armand found himself asking. He hated that a tiny part of him hoped Jean had come to speak the truth, tell him he loved him.

Richelieu's cock twitched at the idea of Jean admitting to him on his knees that he'd spent nights and day's stroking himself off to the idea of making love with him. 

"It doesn't matter" Jean turned opened the door and stepped back into the office determined to leave now.

"What if it did to me?" Armand asked following uncaring now for the arousal he was showing. He lent on the wall beside the chamber doorway suddenly feeling heavy, feeling tired of these games.

Jean stopped at the office door and glanced over to him taking in the sight of his naked torso, his eyes glittered with self loathing and shame.  
Armand wished he could just kiss it away but instead met the look with his own dark heated stare of annoyance. Treville did what he always did under that look, crumbled.  
He opened the door with a sigh and gave him the only answer he could.

"Then I'm sorry"

Treville left for the garrison silently, leaving Richelieu to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling to contemplate which was worse, his loyalty to France or his love for Treville.


	3. Mon Amour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension rippled, desperation spilt over the side and then emotions came in waves before desire came crashing and pouring out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never intended this to drag out...but the tension is just so HAWT.

It was a good few days after that before Treville found himself in the King's gardens. Found himself trying to ignore the gray eyes he knew were watching him from the marquee none too far away where the Cardinal sat looking at him instead of the King who was happily talking about a navy.

It was warm. In fact, it was ridiculously warm for this time of year and being dressed in full guard uniform was not helping the bead of sweat that ran down his neck. How could Armand stand all that heavy black leather, never mind his cloak!

A tiny part of him guessed his icy heart probably helped keep him cool.

Another part of him punched himself for such a joke. The cardinal wasn't cruel nor was he a monster. He was just, him. Jean had no way to describe the man. He was dark and brooding, loyal and gentle but he held a dark and twisted sense of humor at the same time.

He was all too much for Jean to understand and it drove him wild with need.

He side glanced to see Armand drinking his iced lemonade.

Jean wished he could take off this armor, let Richelieu lick his throat, letting his cool tongue lap away at the beads of sweat. The heated idea rushed to his groin and he gritted his teeth.

_Stop it._

He couldn't get turned on by that now. Not here. Not when Armand was so clearly smirking at him from a distance.

If only Jean knew that Richelieu had the same idea. To walk over there, tilt Treville's head back and swipe his tongue over his jugular, cold kisses down his jaw, nip his lips as they kiss roughly...clothes shedding...making love on the lawn...

Armand closed his eyes and bit down for some self-control before looking away.

Bonnaire might have gone missing, but he wasn't needed. The Cardinal had one of the boat plans and the idea would go ahead, quietly. The boat would be constructed and the 'slaves' would now be more or less volunteers. They'd have to start much smaller than originally planned alas as long it didn't arise suspicion with The Musketeers, Armand would be happy to continue this game.

He felt sorry for Treville, the man was built on honor on hard work, on faith and trust. He couldn't accept unjust actions. He felt sad that their relationship over the past 15 years had become estranged. While Louie was young, they'd been okay, laughing, joking, the occasional dinner meeting. As The King grew and France grew rougher, they couldn't find time to accept each other's differences of work.

Treville became a captain, something he had a lot of pride in.

Armand began to scheme as the King found his voice. As first minister, he was tasked with helping the King in his rule. He guided him less these days than before. Louie had grown bored with advice unless he was truly at a lost. He took the  opinion of his wife more than Armand's.

When he was asked though, Armand would do all he could to make the scene easier, lessen a blow, prevent an argument, ease tensions, in the last two years he'd been tasked with holding France together from Louie ripping out seams his father had made. Preventing the oncoming earthquake he could feel in his bones.

One day he'd be powerless to prevent Louie's word causing harm and then again, unlike opinion it would likely be Richelieu who would have to take the fall and die on his own sword.

Treville could hardly handle his Musketeers, let alone the King's childish ways. Armand was more or less step-father to the King. Everyone saw it in Louie how he seeked Armand beside him. But because he was wanted didn't mean he was to be in control.

They were heading back inside now, The King looking forward to his lunch and Armand was thankful he could be dismissed to do as he pleased.

Armand stood close to the wall of the Palace, beneath the archways of the gardens in the shade, watching Treville and The Musketeers disband.

He watched as Treville met his stare. Watched as he told the four to make for their duties, and continued to watch as Treville came towards him.

 

 

Something about The Cardinal's stare had him held. Treville found himself walking slowly and purposely towards the older in a daze not having a single reason as to why he would. the Cardinal's tongue peeked out to lick his lower lip and Jean wanted to feel that.

He found himself mere inches from the Cardinal with no other want or need but to kiss him.

They stood in silence, there breathing a little quick, there palms sweating. Eyes trying to read each other's faces. Both at a loss for any words.

The glance Richelieu made to Treville's lips couldn't have been more obvious if someone had said it out loud. A silent prayer, a plea.

The tension rippled, desperation spilled over the side and then emotions came in waves before desire came crashing and pouring out.

Jean couldn't remember if he'd moved or Armand had. But suddenly he was pressed against Richelieu, lips locked together in a passionately slow kiss and Armand's hands were grasping the leather of his coat.

Armand was ashamed to say he couldn't hold back the moan of pleasure in his throat, the second Jean's lips met his, he went weak at the knees and grasped out wildly hand clutching at Treville's tan doublet.

_Stop._

Armand nipped his lip. Treville pressed closer.

_Stop._

Treville rocked his hips. Armand moaned into the kiss.

_Stop._

Armand's finger's knotted in the hair at his neck. Treville growled and deepened the kiss.

_Stop._

Treville could feel his breeches becoming too tight. Armand was rubbing against him.

_Stop._

Thank god for his cloak. Any onlookers would witness the kiss of course but the heavy silk cloak that was draped over Armand's arm was thankfully hiding the obvious more explicit going on between them.  

When they finally stopped to breath, they found their defensives in shreds and their heart's out in the open.

Richelieu let his hand fall from Treville's neck and come to rest just over the Captain's pounding heart.

"Mon amour"

Richelieu had hardly breathed the words. They could have easily been mistaken. But Jean knew him, knew him too well, had known him too long not to know. Yet the surprise still glittered in his eyes.

As the walls came back and the fear's and doubt's trickled back in, Armand brought his cool hands to Jean's flushed cheeks and gave him one last chaste kiss, before The Cardinal flashed into view and he stepped out of the Captain hold so quickly Treville had to double take from suddenly seeing a blank wall.

The scrape of a spear on the floor caught his attention and he straightened himself to look around, to look normal. Richelieu was walking away towards a Red Guard that had just appeared from a side door, striding away as if the pair had been talking about work not kissing like love drunk teens.

Jean smirked as Armand looked back to him as he went through the door, tipping his hat as casually as he could be before turning to head in the opposite direction.

If either had bothered to turn, to look to the window's of the Queen's balcony, they might have noticed someone smiling. Someone, who sipped at her drink as she let the curtain fall back into place. Someone who suddenly began to plan how she could watch more of this little love story play out.

Anna may be living in a world where as such things were illegal, alas that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy such a display in perfect privacy, besides, who would have even thought she knew of such things.  


End file.
